a rush of blood to the head
by xfucktheglasses
Summary: Take a breath, and let the rest come easy. —Gruvia.
1. What are you?

Thank you to Sonya for looking over this. My writer's block is still pretty intense; so have some awkward writing and Gruvia (:

**1**

Juvia disliked routine.

It's not that she did everything to avoid it, because she didn't; she followed through, every step falling into the footprint left the day before. A cycle—going around and around and around. Like a hamster on its wheel. Even though she followed through every day, it didn't mean she couldn't abhor it.

Today was no different.

The life of a barista was a sad, sad life. Coffee followed her like a shadow, never mind the stench that overpowered any kind of body spray she bought. Soon all she could think about was coffee this, coffee that and the patience—_god_, she had no idea where she even acquired such a thing; Juvia knew she was a patient person but this.

This was an entirely different level.

Returning home after her shift and after a nice run around at the mall to relax her muscles was like paradise.

She sighed, rolling her shoulders and dumping her damp parka at the entrance of her apartment, next to the coat-hanger where it should be going, had it not been dripping droplets of water. She walked with her back arched, reaching down to untie the laces of her very beat up converses, skirt already half unzipped and polo half unbuttoned.

As she walked, she turned on the lights to the small living room and the kitchen and the halls, bringing life into her small one-bedroom apartment. Outside, it was raining; Magnolia was notorious for its funny weathering, after all.

Juvia opened the door to her bedroom, shoes left in the hall; shirt unbuttoned and skirt half off, she turned on the lights. She raked her fingers into her wavy hair, untangling the ice-blue strands and pulling them away from her face. She went straight for her drawer, fully intent to wear Gajeel's flannel pajamas and hoodie for the weather; fondly, she decided her stupid best friend should stop leaving his clothes in her apartment before his girlfriend thought something of it.

With a half-smile crooking her lips to one side, she walked to her bed, setting the articles of clothing over a pair of legs and beginning to peel her shirt the rest of the way off.

Juvia paused.

And blinked her eyes.

And turned to stare at where she put the hoodie and flannel pajamas. And followed the leg up to a bare torso and up to… Blue… Eyes…

Juvia's eyes widened.

And she began to scream, scratching at her chest and stomach as she tried to close her shirt up. She tripped and fell back, kicking her legs to give herself momentum to crawl back without the use of her arms.

He sat up in her bed, tilting his head to one side, and then the other; Juvia, above her panicked screeching, heard the bones crack with satisfaction.

"Why're we yellin'?" he asked, leaning forwards as he sat at the edge of the bed. Some of his very unkept dark hair fell over his blue eyes and Juvia even had the thought of cutting her screams short… Until she saw the horns on either side of his head and the tail twisting behind him.

She proceeded to screech and crawl back all the more further, until she hit the back legs of her desk chair. "What—I—who—what _are_ you?!"

He hushed her down, almost gently, taking a hand out of his loose jeans' pocket and waving it downwards. "Calm down, would ya? Your screams are rattlin' my brain."

"You're _invading my house_!" She gasped for air, ignoring the strands of blue hair that tangled themselves with her lashes. "Who are you?! What do you want?!"

He was scratching at his chin with the tip of one of his claws, lips pursed almost thoughtfully and his eyes staring around the bedroom as if he just barely noticed where he was at. He looked out of place, Juvia decided; he was all black on white—pale skin, blue eyes, dark hair and dark clothing. His horns and his tail were dark, as well and he looked… So out of place.

"What _are_ you," she demanded, again, her chest heaving with panic.

He blinked at her.

"Well… What do I look like?"

A cross between Tall Dark and Handsome and Stranger Danger, she wanted to say. But she bit her lip and furrowed her brow, looking away because her nerves were getting the best of her and the last thing she wanted was to have a breakdown in hysteria right then, and there. "Just… Answer the question."

He scoffed, standing up; Juvia heard his footsteps, heard them pause as they stopped in front of the window and then heard them again when he turned towards her.

"Y'believe in demons, girl?" He crouched in front of her and Juvia curled into herself. "Coz I swear I can change your beliefs in a sec."

Juvia swallowed, thickly, and spared him a glance from the corner of her eyes. "You're a… demon…?"

"Che," he grunted, pulling away, head tilted. "You smell good."

"If you're a demon _why_ are you here? What do you _want_ from me?"

He grunted, again, standing up and walking to her bed, he laid back down, the opened vest he wore sliding off his shoulders and leaving his torso completely bare. "See, tha's the funny part about you humans, girl. You always think there's a bigger reason to something; your picture box—" Juvia followed his claw as it pointed towards the TV "—fills you up with lies. We don't _want_ anything from you. We don't _need_ anything from you; we're above you and you have nothing great to offer."

Juvia turned to him, lips pursed, "Thanks."

"You're welcome." He shifted, leaning his elbow on the mattress and supporting his head up with his hand. Behind him, his tail twisted. "Anyway, I needed shelter. I saw you on your way back—actually, I saw a guy with pink hair and then I saw you. I like blue more than pink… so."

"You followed me home."

"'ctly." He picked Gajeel's pajama pants and hoodie up with his tail, motioning them towards her. "You should change, chick. Your clothes are wet."

Juvia stood up, knees weak, and took slow and cautious steps towards him. His lips were slowly twitching to one side, into a smirk; he could probably feel her fear. She reached for the articles of clothing, still hanging from his tail, with a shaky hand. Her eyes shifted towards him, watching him watch her.

She snatched the sweater and the pants and ran to the bathroom, slamming the door and leaning against it.

.

.

.

She remained in there until she was sure she'd composed herself.

Juvia sat there, limbs shaking and eyes stinging with what she figured were tears. She didn't really know how long she remained there curled into herself, against the door of her apartment's bathroom, dark hoodie and green-black-blue checkered flannel pajama pants at her side. Her shirt was unbuttoned, leaving her black bra exposed along with her chest and her stomach.

The faucet dripped water—drip, drip, drop—and made Juvia twitch at every three second interval.

Closing her eyes, she stood up, undressing and dressing as quickly as she could.

This—this was all a dream.

Imagination—this was her imagination.

Yes.

She walked to the mirror, tying her hair back and staring into her dark eyes; she was paler than normal, face marred with something like fear. No, she told herself, willing herself to wipe the feeling—the look—away. That was all fake. None of it was true; she was just… Dreaming. No need to feel like her life was soon to be threatened.

Juvia smiled at herself, weakly, and turned away. She walked out of the bathroom and back into her room, her eyes glued onto her bed.

It was empty.

She let out a sigh, feeling her shoulders relax as she realized that she had been right; there was no demon in her room—just her. It was just her, in there. No one else…

A snort came from her desk and Juvia gasped; she peeked over the door and watched as the same boy—demon—sat on her desk chair, his legs on the table as he leaned back and entertained a book. She didn't know how to describe how she felt, at the sight of him; she felt something sink her stomach down and she felt her throat go extremely dry. She felt her hands begin to shake with another round of panic.

"You can stop starin' at me," he said, tonelessly.

Juvia gasped and ran to her bed, throwing herself on it and hugging one of her pillows to her chest. "I had convinced myself you weren't real."

He snorted, again, sparing her a glance over the top of the book. "Well, that was lame of you."

"Are you going to kill me?"

He looked up, again and stared at her, long and hard. He flipped the page without looking down at the text, his lips slowly tilting into a smirk again. "Y'want me to?"

"No."

He shrugged.

Juvia chewed on her lower lip, looking around her bedroom and sparing him glances every now and then. His vest was off, entirely, his jeans rode low on his hips and his tail was wrapped around him, like a belt. He wasn't at all threatening; the mere fact that he was what he was, was what terrified her. But he… As a whole… Wasn't intimidating.

Perhaps he didn't want to come off as such, she wondered. Not yet, at least. Not unless he felt he needed to…

"What is your name," she asked, softly, trying to ease her tense muscles.

He sighed, softly, his lips barely parting. He looked up at her, again, blinking his eyes and swatting his messy hair out of his face. "I have a pretty long, unpronounceable name. But you can call me Gray."

"Gray," she whispered.

He grunted, adding, "Fullbuster. Gray Fullbuster—that was my name before I died a long, long time ago."

Juvia nodded, softly, registering this fact into her brain.

"Now, Juvia—"

"How—"

"A million of reasons," he interrupted. "But anyway. You should go to sleep."

She shook her head, "I'm not tired."

But she already felt her mind fuzzing and her eyes drooping. She lowered herself down, still hugging one of her many pillows; her eyes spared Gray another glance, watching him watch her for another second before he returned his attention to the book. She closed her eyes, and forgot about new demon roommates and succumbed to sleep.

.

.

.

She woke up with a gasp, sitting up with wide eyes and looking around her room.

They landed on Gray, even before she could try to convince herself, again, that he wasn't real and she had been dreaming. He sat on the desk chair, still, in the same position; the only difference from what she last remembered was the stack of books at his side. He didn't look up at her; rather, he flipped the page and leaned back further into his seat.

Juvia swallowed, thickly, sparing the rain outside her window another glance, and tried to calm her nerves.

"Morning," he drawled, without looking up at her.

She curled into her covers, hiding. "Hello."

"Did you try to convince yourself I wasn't here again?"

"I was about to," she admitted. "Will you tell me exactly why… You're here? On earth, I mean… Did you even _sleep_?"

"No."

She studied him, his blue eyes scanning the text of the book, lips in an expressionless line, forelocks shadowing his face. "Do you sleep at all?"

"If I want to," he said.

"Do you eat?"

Gray looked up at her, again, his blue eyes locking with hers. "If I want."

Her eyes widened and he chuckled at her fear. "You are reading way too into this, Juvia. I said I wasn't going to do anything, didn't I? Why the mistrust?"

"You're a _demon_!"

"And you're a human," he drawled right back at her.

Juvia bit at her lip, bringing her covers up to cover her head. She closed her eyes, sleep trying to lull her back to black voids of comfort. She wasn't stupid, this time. She knew he'd be there when she woke up.


	2. Where are you from?

Thank you so much for the positive feedback! As it is, we all know Juvia's very quick to fall in love, so don't be surprised if it starts happening fairly soon. Idk what this story is about, but it's a pleasure to write it. And hopefully a pleasure to read! :)

**2**

He had messy shaggy black hair and dark blue eyes. His skin was pale and only looked paler with his dark features. He wore a vest, opened for all of her furniture to see; his jeans rode low on his hips, hip bones almost tantalizing her in a way that Juvia did not think she wanted to be tantalized in.

Her eyes skimmed his abdomen, getting lost in the harsh lines that shaped the muscles; she quickly lifted them to the dark marking on the left side of his chest.

She didn't understand the symbol—the tattoo—but it was black, like his hair and his clothes and his blood.

Juvia lowered her eyes and stared down at her oatmeal, lips half-parted as she tried to concentrate on something—anything. Next to her, the napkin where she'd written down her number in sticky-like characters still laid, the blue of the ink making her think of Gray's eyes.

It's been two days since he appeared on her bed, following her into her apartment by pure chance and his offhanded way of making decisions. He was quiet and had read all the books on both the bookshelves in her living room and her bedroom in one single day. He did not eat and he did not sleep yet Juvia had absentmindedly made sure her couch looked and felt good enough to lie upon.

She kept trying to ask him what he was doing on earth—never mind her apartment, she had quit wondering that since the first day—but every time she asked, something or someone interrupted the conversation and switched to something entirely different.

Gray didn't seem willing to answer anytime soon, whether for mischief and fun or because it was something Bad, Juvia didn't really know.

She sighed and brought a spoonful of her breakfast to her lips, swatting some of her blue forelocks away from her eyes to allow her a better view of her new roommate as he stood in the middle of the living room, rereading one of the books he'd already read. And, she mused, maybe she was completely wrong in the head for not feeling any sort of negative feeling at sharing her apartment with a demon whose actual home was hell.

Maybe it was a sign that she was not normal.

Juvia pursed her lips for a second, eyes staring at the ceiling, before she shrugged.

Oh well, what else was new?

"You talkin' to yourself?" he asked, not looking up from the book.

Juvia's eyes turned towards him, blinking as she scooped another spoonful of oatmeal. "…No…"

Gray smirked down at the page he was on, and said nothing more. Behind him, the shadow of his tail twitched from one side to the other.

.

.

.

The shower-head rained hot water down at her, steam floating around the bathroom and clouding her in a ball of comfort.

Juvia closed her eyes shut, lifting her chin up and allowing the water to pelt her face, hair tickling the small of her back. Thoughts raked her about Gray—nothing too severe; rather, curiosity. What was hell like? What was his role there? _Why_ was he there—what did he do? Why did he resurface to earth and why didn't he just go back?

So many questions, and it wasn't like Juvia _wanted_ them there—they just appeared upon being exposed to him.

Demons… They were _real_.

She dropped her chin down, blue hair curtaining around her as she gulped air.

Maybe she should just _ask_.

.

.

.

She walked out to the living room, oversized wool-knitted sweater falling off her shoulders and sleeves swallowing her small hands. Her blue hair was damp, more curly than wavy and bangs stringy as they began to dry up. Gray was standing in the kitchen, seemingly doing nothing but observing—calculating, even. Juvia pursed her lips, maybe even memorizing, she decided.

She slid onto a barstool, watching him, her socked feet dangling in the air, swinging softly so she wouldn't hit the barred leg of the stool or the wooden counter.

"What is hell like," she asked, tilting her head to the side. She wondered if that's what it was called or if it was just another silly name humans had given it.

Gray turned around to face her, his dark blue eyes blank, forelocks messy and shadowing his face. He smirked and a tooth peeked out from the corner of his lips; a fang—demons had fangs, didn't they?

"Hell?" He tilted his head to the side, his messy hair brushing his bare shoulders.

Juvia furrowed her brow, wondering if he was confused at what she was exactly asking—what else could it be called…?

"There isn't a definite hell," he drawled, tilting his head back upright and leaning against the cool surface of the stainless steel fridge. "Like I said—your picture box fills you humans up with lies, it's almost ridiculous."

She furrowed her brow, her lower lip jutting out in a light pout. "You're really rude, you know."

"Che." He looked away, crossing his arms in front of his chest. His tail wrapped around his waist, like a belt, dark and camouflaging against his black pants. "Everyone has their own hell, just for them; designed just for them."

Juvia curled her hands on top of the counter, leaning forwards. "So… It's just one person in their own hell—just one person…? Alone… forever?"

Gray shrugged a shoulder and Juvia watched as the muscles constrained under his skin. "Well, yes and no."

"Hm?"

He stared at her. His eyes were a dark blue—a dark cerulean, almost violet-blue, almost gray, almost black. His lashes were thick and black, shadowing his pale cheekbones with every blink. They were icy cold, his eyes, and Juvia felt shivers run down her spine as they locked with her dark ones, any fight—any thought—to look away was gone because his stare demanded attention and she couldn't help but just _give him that_. The attention his dark presence demanded without any threats.

"You're alone until the nightmare of enduring your biggest mistake over and over begins. See," he lifted a hand up, walking out of the kitchen and towards the small living room. "My boss isn't as cruel as people make him out to be—he gives you a break. Seven days of being in the presence of something soothing, something kind. And then—boom. Your nightmares begin for the rest of eternity."

He is quiet then and Juvia was left to soak up the reality of everything—the fake reality that she'd lived with since she was a little girl, shattered and broken.

"And that's only if you're lucky."

Juvia looked back at him. "What… Do you mean?"

"If you're lucky, you'll just relive your nightmares, your biggest regret while alive. Mostly, you get a couple of hundreds of years of torture—hey, you must'a been a sick bastard if you landed in hell, yeah?"

Juvia stared at him.

"What's _your_ hell like...?"

Gray remained quiet, shifting and lying on the couch, arms crossed behind his head and a leg bent at the knee. "It was a snow terrain."

"Oh, but that almost sounds peaceful."

"Che," Gray scoffed, looking away with what was almost anger. "I got my mentor killed in a snow terrain, long ago."

Juvia bit her lower lip and looked away. "Did you… Did you… Get tortured…?"

"Yes."

.

.

.

Juvia gave up on sleep, that night.

She lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling and fingers worrying at the strands of her hair. The window was open, even if a light drizzle was beginning to fall; the cool air was doing little to nothing to calm her scorching skin, but she admitted that the breeze felt good against her sweaty forehead.

It's not that she was getting nightmares—that was giving her the luxury of at _least_ a bit of sleep.

But Juvia hadn't gotten a smidge; she closed her eyes but nothing came—her brain was still on and she still blinked even with her eyes shut, eyes moving under her lids. Thoughts plagued her—the heaviness of what Gray told her playing with her veins, squeezing out adrenaline that demanded she got up and _did something_ because sleep was out of the question.

She moved her covers and stood up, fixing the waistband of her leggings and stepping outside of her room.

Gray was in the living room. The lights were off and he floated above the couch, legs crossed as he reread another book.

Juvia turned the lights on and the only notion that he acknowledged her presence was his tail's quick twitch.

"You're reading without lighting," she said to him, hugging herself as she approached the couch.

"I don't need lights," he said, sparing her a glance from his peripheral vision.

She rolled her eyes, "Right because you're a demon."

"Yup."

It was silent for a while and Juvia slid onto the couch's arm.

"Shouldn't you be asleep," Gray drawled, closing the book and setting it on his lap. He turned to her, bringing up a claw and scratching at his chin with the tip of it.

Juvia shrugged. "I can't sleep."

"Oh?"

"Your story jumbled me up," she said, looking away and tucking strands of her hair behind her ear.

Gray shrugged, "Yeah, s'why we're not supposed to say anything."

"And yet you _told_ me?"

Juvia was perplexed. If not completely aggravated.

"Well," Gray shrugged again, turning towards her for a second before sitting onto the couch and stretching his legs out. "I had the choice of ignoring your question and continue to be bored, or tell you and have something to talk about. Side effect: your psyche getting a little bruised."

Yes, completely perplexed and aggravated.

"You have a very sick way of making decisions."

"Yeah, well."

Silence resumed and Juvia stared at the coffee table, sliding down to the couch and hugging her knees to her chest. They remained like that for what seemed like hours; at some point, Gray resumed his book an Juvia curled up at the corner of the couch. The drizzle outside turned into harsh rain and lightning soon followed.

"I can take you to the library," she said, a bit shy, her eyes still on the coffee table and never meeting Gray's even as he turned to look at her.

"Che?"

"The library," she repeated, shrugging. "You can get more books to read."

For the third time, silence fell over them and Juvia slowly turned to look at him from under her forelocks.

He was staring at the wall, as if putting it all together—or maybe making one of his ridiculous decisions. But he nodded, looking down to the book, and said, "Cool."

.

.

.

At some point, Juvia fell asleep, her head on the couch's arm and her legs on Gray's lap.

She was asleep but she was sure she felt someone throw a blanket over her and in her dream it translated to a sunny day, holding hands with a shadow.


	3. Where are we going?

I wrote this all in one sitting, which is a first in a long while. It's three in the morning and I messed up my sleeping schedule yesterday, FML. Anyway, thank you for the feedback! Um... I am trying to start a new Gruvia fic-thingy, more like a drabble collection and I _will_ just as soon as I find some good prompts on LiveJournal (any recs, anyone?) So, yeah!

**3**

Juvia quickly placed her hand on the door and slammed it back shut, holding her breath as so not to curve her front against Gray's back.

He turned to face her, blank eyes set on hers—locking and holding her in place. His hair was messy and his horns were sharp, he wore one of Gajeel's hoodies and jeans and sneakers. But his _horns _were out and his _tail_ twitched behind him. And Gray seemed to be clueless as to what the actual problem was, if any.

Juvia sighed, pulling back and blowing air upwards, sending her forelocks flying before falling to tickle her brow again.

"You need to," she waved her hand in the air, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. "Your… You know…"

"Nope," he stated, making a popping sound at the 'p'.

"Your horns and tail," she said, crossing her arms in front of her chest. She looked to the side, sparing glances at him from the corner of her dark eyes. "It'll cause attention."

Gray scratched at his chin with his claws, sending Juvia into a wave of almost-exasperation.

"C-claws aren't any good either," she choked, pursing her lips. "You have to look _human_."

At this, Gray's nose crinkled, lips curling and sharp white teeth showing. "How absurd—why would I wanna look like a _human_? This is kin'a annoying; this library better be worth it, Juvia."

She shrugged turning around and walking away. It was hard—looking at him because she couldn't decide if he looked better in his demon clothes or in Gajeel's clothes. But he… was a very attractive demon. And Juvia would admit that in her mind, demons were all hideous and unsightly.

Burnt, rough skin and pitch black eyes, sharp teeth and horns everywhere. Scaly and without a single possibility of looking like a human.

But Gray was everything human, save for the black horns on either side of his head and the black tail that curled around his hips when he would float about, reading a book upside down and the claws that held said books under his nose. She supposed this was the prime reason as to why she wasn't afraid—because he looked like her and he had a shadow and he had a reflection.

He was tainted black, she knew, and he possessed no soul. He was a vessel filled with fire from hell, wandering the living for reasons unknown to even Juvia. But… Gray seemed to be mischievous in his own frivolous, apathetic way. He was probably here for a lack of anything else to do, given his odd way of making decisions.

"Alright."

Juvia jumped in her seat on the couch, cutting her musings short and turning to look as Gray returned from the foyer.

There were no horns. There was no tail. There were no claws.

He looked like a human—a boy of at least nineteen, if not twenty. His hair was tousled even more so, something Juvia figured he'd done himself at feeling weird without his horns.

"Well," she breathed out, clearing her throat to get rid of the lump. "Okay. Let's go, then."

.

.

.

Demons were not allergic to the sun.

Juvia knew this because that was for vampires, but vampires don't exist… Or do they?

She spared a glance to Gray as he walked next to her, his eyes half-lidded with his boredom and completely immune to the looks he continued to receive from both men and women. If demons exist, then, surely everything else jam-packed in the horror genre, did too, right?

Juvia pursed her lips and fiddled with the strap that rested in between her chest, crossing over her torso as messenger bags' straps are supposed to.

The library wasn't too far from her house, four blocks and a half, taking up half of the block and having Magnolia's central park further down to the left upon making a turn. As the notorious weather of her absurd city went, it was sunny, today. A bit cloudy with a chance of a drizzle. She sighed, looking up at the sky and fingering strands of her hair.

"Walking is boring," Gray muttered, next to her, eyeing a girl that passed them by.

Juvia bit back a snort. "I can't drive."

"Che."

"Besides, the library is—"

"Juvia!"

She froze, closing her eyes and mouthing things to herself that even she couldn't understand. She felt Gray's eyes on her, could already picture an eyebrow raised even as she turned around, crafting a smile on her lips and greeting the guy that approached them.

As expected, his eyes went to Gray and stayed there for a while before returning towards her much smaller frame.

"Hello, Juvia," he said, ignoring some of his silver hair falling over his dark eyes.

She smiled, politely, "Hi, Lyon, how are you?"

He launched them both into a small conversation, then; as usual, he was vigorous, his feelings towards so apparent, it made Juvia uncomfortable and weird and she always had to fight down her blush because he could interpret it the wrong way and, oh, if only she knew how to reject someone…

"Who's your friend?" he finally asked, returning his attention to Gray.

Juvia cleared her throat at this, turning to bashfully look at Gray. He hadn't moved during the exchange, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans and his head tilted back a bit, his eyes—glued on Lyon—blank and obscured by his forelocks.

"This is Gray," she said, softly.

Lyon nodded his head, eyes narrowed. "Hello."

"Che," Gray scoffed, smirking.

Lyon's eyes narrowed all the more. "And you are…?"

Juvia caught Gray's mouth opening, a glint in his eyes.

"He's my friend!"

A pause in which Gray and Lyon exchanged dark looks towards each other.

"He's my friend," Juvia cleared, again, less edgy. "He's staying at my place while he visits."

"I see," Lyon drawled, distractedly.

Juvia nodded, feeling more exasperated than she was supposed to. "We gotta run, Lyon. It was nice seeing you."

.

.

.

"He radiates obsessive love."

They were entering the library. Juvia paused, brow furrowed and turned to look at him with confusion in her eyes.

"That guy," Gray cocked his head to the side and towards the direction where they just came from. "Reeked of it, actually."

She watched him wrinkle his nose in disapproval, walking into the library and leading them both in. Libraries are ancient, so whichever era Gray had been alive for, libraries weren't a mystery to him. Although, Juvia had an inkling feeling that not much was a mystery for Gray—if he was as mischievous as she thought he was, he went on many adventures in different parts and time periods of the world.

"What do you mean?" she asked, catching up to him and waving at the librarian as she spoke.

Gray shrugged a shoulder, pausing and scanning the endless aisles.

"What's your favorite genre?"

He shrugged again. "I'll read anything."

Juvia walked a bit until she stood in front of him, eyes on him as she studied him. She chewed on her lower lip, ignoring the heat rising up her face as he stared right back at her, unabashedly. She bowed forwards as she tried to make a decision until, finally, she decided that, "I think you'll like Stephen King. I don't like his work, much. But still."

She waved him over, leading him towards the desired section.

.

.

.

They left with every Stephen King book piled in Gray's hands.

Juvia reached a hand out, palm facing upwards, and rolled her eyes as that light drizzle she'd predicted settled in. She sighed, eyes squinted as she looked around. Perhaps a café or a diner to hide in case the drizzle transformed into rain?

"Are you hungry," she asked, turning to Gray and blinking her eyes upon remembering. "Oh, wait… You don't…"

He smirked, all sharp edges and teasingly. "Not unless I want to."

That sent shivers down her spine, much like the first time.

And he knew it, too, because he chuckled. Had Juvia had more courage, she'd shove him down the stairs or maybe kick him once or twice. But she settled into leading the way, arms curling around herself to keep herself warm. She'd dressed in a simple t-shirt, cardigan and scarf ensemble and the lack of her parka was already showing effect.

"Where are we going," Gray drawled, walking closer to her than he had on their way towards the library.

Juvia felt warmer.

"A diner not too far from here," she dropped her hands back to her sides. "We can wait the drizzle out, there."

"I can just transport us back to the—"

"Gray, _no_!"

He sighed, rolling his eyes and dropping the suggestion.

He looked—he looked very attractive when he was annoyed.

Juvia turned away to hide her smile.

"So who was that foul human?"

She turned towards him, again, brow furrowed.

"The guy… Whatever his name is."

"Lyon?"

"Yup."

Juvia shrugged, smiling at the hostess upon entering. She waited until they were seated and until they were left alone before looking up at Gray as he sat across from her. His hair was damp, droopy and messy and wow, Juvia was beginning to wonder how many times she was going to feel this spike of attraction towards him, today. Maybe it was just the lack of his demon attire.

"Lyon is," she pursed her lips. "He has a bit of a crush on me."

"A bit?"

She flushed.

"Well, more than a bit, then. It's been years and he just…"

"Oh so you don't feel the same."

She shook her head, reaching up and tying her damp blue hair into a messy bun. "If you'd like, we can do this more—dress you up in Gajeel's clothes and go out… I bet it gets boring staying at the apartment."

Gray stared at her for a second, quiet, and unblinkingly. He shrugged a moment after, grabbing a book and skimming through the pages, quickly. "I suppose so. Humans don't really attract my attention."

"Blue haired ones do, apparently," she said without thinking and flushing once she caught herself.

She turned up to him, eyes wide and heat on her cheeks. He didn't look up but he was smirking—almost half grinning—down at the book. But he didn't deny it and he didn't agree. And Juvia allowed it to settle around them before disappearing, like steam. She looked at him for a bit longer, forgetting that he probably knew she was.

He was very pretty to look at.


	4. What do you like?

Sorry for the long wait! I really have to wait for the right mood to write this story; and to think the inspiration came when a dick customer was a dick to me, har. Anyway, thank you so much for the support and I would just like to say, now, that this story does not really have a plot. I am practicing on writing these characters so I can write, you know, something snazzy for them, someday. It's mostly interactions and, I mean, things will happen but nothing too flamboyant. I also know how it ends, so there's that. Hopefully you guys will be satisfied with Gray and Juvia interacting with each other?

**4**

Juvia returned home a quarter after three.

It was raining, again, and downpour was relentless. She was sopping wet, blue hair sticking to her forehead and clothes hugging her limbs like second skin. The air she exhaled as she leaned against the door was solid; a puff of white smoke that disappeared in a blink of an eye. Juvia adored the rain like she'd adore a long, lost old friend… But sometimes it could be _too much_.

She groaned, closing her eyes and letting the feeling of her headache sink in.

The apartment was quiet—it was _always_ quiet, never mind that she was sharing it with someone.

She peeled herself away from the door, taking her parka off and hanging it on the coat-hanger. She walked into the living room, her dark eyes landing on Gray as he hovered just two inches above the couch, legs crossed and nose-deep into one of the books they had gotten at the library. Juvia found herself smiling at the sight, and upon realization of it, sobering her look up.

There were things she has come to realized, today at work; but that didn't mean coming to terms with.

"You're annoyed," Gray drawled, never lifting his eyes from the pages.

Juvia wrinkled her nose, bending over and ruffling her hair before tying it up into a messy bun on top of her head. "You're supposed to say hello."

"Hello."

"Hi."

Straightening up, she found her eyes locking with his. And, wow, did he look amazing when he raised an eyebrow like that and tilted his head. "You're annoyed."

Juvia wrinkled her nose, again.

"How do you know that?"

"I can smell it."

This made Juvia pause.

If he could smell her emotions, could he smell everything else? Her scent? The smell of passion fruits from her lotion? Her… Oh… Well… Juvia blinked her eyes and turned away, walking into her bedroom and quickly changing into dry clothes. Rainy days required something big and comfortable like Gajeel's sweatpants and her own favorite blue hoodie.

She reappeared, minutes later, rubbing her hand together so the friction could warm them up. Gray hadn't moved yet, from reading his book and hovering above the couch, black tail swaying behind him. She stared at the cover of the book and raised an eyebrow.

It.

That would always be her least favorite book.

"So why are you annoyed?"

She looked up at him, moving to sit on the other side of the couch, tucking her knees under her chin and staring at the warm forest-green blanket. Not that Gray needed blankets, as he had said when she brought it out for him. But she felt so… bad, for a lack of a better term, at him just lying on the bed. Or whatever it was he did, after she would fall asleep.

"Work was such a pain," she drawled, half paying attention to what she was saying.

Gray hummed, lifting a claw to scratch at his chin. "How so?"

Juvia shrugged, leaning forwards to grab the blanket and envelop herself in it. "There was a customer that was a complete and utter jerk to me simply because we didn't have almond croissants, anymore."

"Almond croissants?"

"Mmm, it's… a pastry with toasted almond nuts sprinkled on top and some sort of filling inside."

Gray tilted his head, looking away from the book and lifting his eyes skyward, in thought. "I would like to see one."

Juvia opened and closed her mouth.

"O-oh. Yeah. I can definitely bring you one tomorrow."

"Cool." He turned the page of the book.

Juvia took this time to study him, ignoring the fact that he knew she was. Gray was an attractive… Demon. A man, she would love to call him. A man with a demon tail, demon horns and demon claws. He must have been such a heartbreaker when he was alive, all those centuries before. Since he didn't go out, today, he was dressed in his usual attire of dark pants and a dark vest—nothing more.

His chest was bare and even as he sat, half-leaning forwards, his toned muscles were still so clear. And the… The tattoo—the symbol, still so very black against his pale skin.

She opened her mouth to say something but he cut her off as he said, "Should I smite 'em?"

"E-excuse me?" she squeaked.

Gray turned to her, an amused look on his face. "The jerk customer. Would you like me to smite 'em?"

"Oh, g—shit, Gray, _no_," she shook her head, vigorously, strands of her blue hair falling out of her bun. "He was a jerk but you don't need to go and—and—and burn them to death!"

"Burn?" He chuckled, shaking his head and causing his very messy forelocks to fall and shadow his eyes. "I don't use fire."

"Y-you… You don't?"

"No." He set his book down on his lap, open faced. "I use ice."

Juvia blinked her eyes. "Ice."

"Yes. Ice can stop life and time itself. It burns in a way fire never can."

Silence fell over them and Juvia allowed this to sink in. She swallowed, tucking rebellious locks of blue hair behind her ear. She looked up at him; Gray had resumed reading, lowering himself down to sit on the couch, legs stretched out in front of him.

Ice… was it because of how he died and the torture he went through?

Juvia shook her head, clearing her throat and pointing towards the book. "There's a movie, for that book."

He looked up at her.

"I have it," she pursed her lips, "Well, actually, it's Levy's. But it's here."

Gray followed her finger as she pointed to the rack with all the DVDs.

"W-would you like to watch it?"

He didn't respond, but he closed his book and set it on the coffee table. When she didn't move, he turned to look at her, eyebrow raised and dark blue eyes practically glowing. Juvia stood up quickly, hoping the shuffle of her baggy clothes was loud enough to hide the beat of her traitorous heart.

.

.

.

"I dislike clowns," Juvia whispered as soon as the movie finished. She fought to hide the shiver, but it slid down her spine and as she rode the wave, she looked up to find Gray staring at her, quietly.

She quickly looked away, standing up and walking towards the kitchen, set on finding something to eat. Honestly, Juvia just couldn't deal with herself, sometimes. How it was possible that she was not only housing a demon in her apartment, but that she was finding him attractive and developing something of a silly crush on him!

She didn't think she could ever have become such a silly idiot.

Shaking her head, she opened the refrigerator door, set on making one of those microwaveable pizzas, with a can of soda on the side. She turned around, opening the package, and paused when she saw Gray standing at the entrance of the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe.

"Clowns?"

Juvia jutted her lower lip out in a pout, continuing her trek to the microwave, silently sulking as Gray chuckled in what would be considered a teasing way.

.

.

.

"Is there anything you dislike?"

Gray wasn't reading any of his books. He was sitting on the couch, watching the screen of the TV as a rerun of some drama played out; his nose wrinkled in distaste, upper lip curling in a sneer. He looked over his shoulder at her, where she sat on the bar table, half-finished with her food.

"Yes," he growled. "This picture box."

Juvia laughed, turning away to hide her face. She looked back, towards him, catching him shake his head yet never looking away from the screen. She stood up to dispose of her trash and wash her hands, walking back out of the kitchen and sitting on the other side of the couch.

"That's a drama," she said. "A novella. The drama is severely used and almost eighty percent of the plot. Hence, why they call it 'drama'."

"I call it garbage."

Juvia snorted, looking away to hide her smile.

"So what d'you like," he said in a low drawl, tone low and smooth.

Juvia's cheeks burned, feeling like his voice caressed her throat and feeling stupid for even thinking that. "I—well. I like to read, too… And, um, well, I like to go out on walks in the rain. I really like the rain."

She turned towards him, jaw clenching as she caught him staring at her from under his forelocks. They remained like that, with Juvia feeling like she was frozen under his stare, heart beat escalating and with him looking as unreadable as he always was.

"Cool," he said, finally, nodding his head and turning back to the TV.

.

.

.

The following day, Juvia returned from work at noon.

It wasn't raining—not exactly. The sky was gray and a drizzle fell every once in a while, constant enough to keep the pavement wet. This was the kind of weather Juvia adored and as she stepped in, through the door of her apartment, she did it with a smile that reached her eyes and completely unbothered by the light frizz in her hair.

"Gray?"

He was already looking towards her direction as she came into view. She smiled at him, the smile growing a bit sober—enough to call it bashful. She dug into her bag, pulling out a small white bag and extending it wards him as she walked closer.

Gray eyed it, taking it into his hands and peering inside.

"That's an almond croissant."

His eyebrows rose up as he pulled it out, stabbing a claw into it and holding up with it.

"Doesn't look like anything special."

Juvia rolled her eyes, walking into her bedroom and disposing of her bag. She walked back out unbuttoning her parka and walking to the coat hanger to hang it up. "Won't you take a bite of it?"

Gray hummed, staring at it with clinical eyes. Juvia's breath hitched at the hollow of her throat as he took a quick bite; she didn't blink as he chewed and she swore she had never seen him look so human. And eating—he was just eating! She shook her head, walking closer and taking a seat on the edge of the couch.

"Well?"

"I've had better things," he said, a gleam in his eyes.

Juvia looked away, quickly, and nodded. When she looked back, towards him, he had finished the entire croissant and was staring at her as he chewed the last of it.

"Liar," she said and a slow smirk appeared on his lips.

.

.

.

She brought him croissants every day, after that.


	5. Who is your friend?

**5**

"Juvia open th' door!"

Juvia sat up in bed; eyes snapped open with sleep still glazing them over. Her hair was tangled and messy and her mind was jumbled, still half asleep like the rest of her. It was quiet for another second before the doorbell rang and the insistent pounding on the door began again. Gray—

Oh, shit, _Gray_.

Juvia let out a string of incoherent words, trying to move her covers out of the way but instead successfully tangling herself within them, rolling to the ground with a hollow thud. She growled, kicking herself out of the tangled mess and practically crawling out of her bedroom.

Gray was standing in the middle of the small foyer, head tilted and the air around him chilling against her skin.

A shiver ran down her spine as she placed a hand on the back of his arm, looking up at him with a small smile.

"Juvia, dammit!"

"That's Gajeel," she whispered. Her dark eyes stared at his horns for a second before turning back towards the door. "Gray, please change into some—some clothes a-and hide the horns and the tail and… Yes."

Gray stared at her with a frown, the freezing sensation around him disappearing as he began to feel less threatened. He let out a soft exhale before turning around and heading towards the bathroom. Juvia bit her lip, watching him go until he disappeared, before walking towards the door and yanking it open just as her stupid best friend was about to pound his fist against the surface.

He eyed her, dark red eyes narrowed. "Levy said she saw y'at the library witta guy."

"Good morning, Gajeel," she sighed, stepping aside and smiling, fondly, as he stomped inside.

"Who is it?"

"Who?"

"The guy!"

Juvia wrinkled her nose, running her hands through her hair to make it look a bit more decent. "Who? I was talking to Lyon for a few minutes…"

Of course that had been on the _first _visit to the library. Once Gray had finished all the stack of books—which had only taken a day over a week—he had demanded to go back and get something new. They bumped into Levy just as she was leaving in a rush with no time for anything but a quick hello-call-me-later.

"No, no, no," Gajeel shook his head, looking around. "She said this guy was tall 'nd dark 'nd '_handsome_'. Is it Bora, 'gain, coz if it is, Juvia, I'm punching you."

She sighed, rubbing her temples and swallowing the laugh Gajeel's over-protectiveness always caused to bloom in her chest. He was such a silly idiot, always worrying about her by demanding answers to his unabashed questions and promising he'd beat her up if she was being stupid and wearing her heart on her sleeve again. But under the tough, rough act, her stupid best friend was actually a softie. She knew for a fact that he cried during The Notebook.

"Bora was _not_ tall, dark and handsome, Gajeel." She crossed her arms in front of her chest and pursed her lips. "A-anyway, she's probably talking about my old friend—"

Like in the books, he stepped out at the perfect moment. Juvia tensed and whipped around to watch him and inspect if he looked… Well, if he looked human. And he did; dressed in a zip-up hoodie and dark pants, Gray appeared, ruffling his hair and glowering from what Juvia figured was discomfort and annoyance.

"Gray!"

"Huh?"

Gajeel narrowed his eyes and reeled in, inspecting him. "Who th' hell is he?"

"Gray! He's a-an old friend of mine."

"Che." Gray smirked at Gajeel, raising an eyebrow.

Juvia chewed on her lower lip. "I—I never really talked about him because, you see, we were so close that it was painful t-to remember him. Besides I never thought I would see him again… But look!"

"Uh-huh," Gajeel grunted, sizing Gray up with his arms crossed in front of his chest. After a second, he looked away, settling to eye Juvia with a sharp, crooked grin. "So was he present for all th' third-persons?"

"What?"

"YES." Juvia blinked, making an inhuman noise. "I—I mean… I mean, shut up, Gajeel."

Gajeel chuckled, turning towards Gray. "Bet she was like," and here he tried to make his voice come off as high pitched, "'Juvia wishes it rains'. Or 'Juvia likes that book too'. Priceless."

Gray blinked his eyes, brow furrowed, but he nodded his head nonetheless and tried to look amused. This, Juvia figured, wasn't all that hard when it came to revelations of her obnoxious speech patterns as a little girl. She had come to realize that Gray enjoyed watching her grow embarrassed.

"'nway, jus' droppin' by to see what the hell you're up to." He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans, nodding his head. "Y'guys wanna go get some breakfast at th' diner?"

"I have work today," Juvia announced, brow furrowed.

Gajeel shrugged. "So get ready 'nd you can head off from there. Ain't that right, Gray?"

Gray nodded his head slowly, again, blinking his eyes when Gajeel clapped him on the back.

Juvia bit at the inside of her cheek and sighed, shifting her weight from one leg to the other in nervousness and exasperation. How much trouble could they get into if she left them alone while she got ready? She eyed them both, Gray looking—for once—clueless and Gajeel eyeing her with a hint of annoyance.

The idiot was probably hungry.

She sighed. "Okay. Fine. Just give me a bit to get ready."

Jeez, she seriously hoped Gray didn't smite him while she was away.

.

.

.

Gray swirled his straw, cobalt eyes stuck on the big glass of smoothie Gajeel ordered for him.

Juvia sat right across from him and she eyed his movements with a hint of fascination. Other than eating the croissants she would bring him, this is actually the first time he was going to eat an entire meal—drink included. She wondered if it was okay for his system—was he going to go through some sort of demon fever or something? She tried to remember anything she'd seen in movies or read in books but came up short.

He took a sip of the smoothie and Juvia's lips quirked into a smile as he lifted his head, his nose wrinkled in distaste.

"So where d'you live, Gray?"

Juvia tried to make eye contact with him because she just _knew_ the word that was forming in his mouth, dangling in the tip of his tongue. Gray was too blunt for his own good and only chose the easiest words out of complete amusement and to have less to say. It's been weeks since they met, but Juvia was good at studying people and she had Gray's personality down to a tee.

She shook her head and gave him a warning look when his eyes locked with hers.

He closed his mouth before opening it again and saying, "Edolas."

"Tha's pretty far."

"Yes," Gray agreed, nodding his head.

Juvia exhaled the breath she didn't know she was holding in.

"So when y'goin' back? Coz I wouldn't mind going to a bar one of these nights." Gajeel wore a sharp grin on his lips as he shifted in hiss eat next to Juvia. "You down?"

She snapped her head from one man to the other. This little thing wasn't going to be easy anymore, was it? Not that she should be overthinking it, right? Of course not—what could go wrong other than Gray revealing he was a demon from the depths of Hell who went through years upon years of torture and was, in fact, centuries of years older than all them? And knowing Gray, he would do it with a straight face because he was just that much of a blunt _idiot_.

A very, very, very attractive blunt idiot. But the fact that he was an idiot was still there.

"I… am down." The way he furrowed his brow indicated he didn't really get the phrase. It made Juvia smile as she sipped at her orange juice.

Gajeel gave a nod. "Cool."

After that, their breakfast arrived and they ate in a casual silence with a few comments thrown every ten minutes. Juvia watched as Gray ate his pancakes with something akin to elegance; it wasn't even about the feelings she harbored for him. It was just that he held his fork in such a way and brought the right amount of food to his mouth and when he chewed his jawline looked sharp and—and—and Juvia looked down at her French toast and pursed her lips.

.

.

.

At work, Juvia couldn't really concentrate.

The thought of leaving Gray and Gajeel together made her twitch—the things that could be said, the things that could _happen_.

With her taking off to work right after their outing to the diner, Gajeel said he'd keep Gray company as he headed back to the apartment. But what if they didn't? What if they went off somewhere and they talked and Gray said something that shouldn't be said and Gajeel found out he wasn't all that human?

She could be overthinking it, yes. But not everyone was like her! Not everyone would take the fact that a demon was in their presence like a simple change of weather. There could be an uproar or something…

Maybe she should call, she wondered as she steamed some milk for a latte. Yes, she can make a quick call and ask Gray how it went. Oh, she retaliated, pouring the two shots of espresso onto a to-go cup, Gray wouldn't pick the phone up… If anything, he would stand in front of it and stare at it with annoyance. Or, better yet, just ignore it—or _freeze _it.

No, maybe… Maybe she should just wait until she got home.

She inwardly sighed, smiling at her customer.

.

.

.

He was watching the television with the same glower he always wore when it was turned on, when she returned home.

She handed him his croissant, as was the daily ritual, and sat down next to him, untying her hair and running her fingers through it. Juvia eyed him, still wearing the zip-up hoodie and the jeans and no sign of his demon features. She smiled, looking towards the screen of her TV and watching a commercial for a second.

"How do you make your horns and such disappear?"

She can feel Gray's eyes on her for a second before he turns back to his croissant. "I'm not human; I can manipulate things."

Juvia allowed this to sink into her brain as she chewed on her lower lip. "I was thinking…"

"Che?"

"Maybe… Maybe you could stay like that?"

He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Like… Without the horns and the tail and such." She furrowed her brow, shifting in her seat so she could better face him. "I—I mean, endearing as they are, we can't have what happened to day be repeated. I almost had a heart attack."

Gray stared at her for a second, slowly chewing. And then he shrugged a shoulder. "Sure."

Juvia smiled, reaching over to fix a lock of his hair that stood out awkwardly. "So what did you do when I left?"

"You friend walked with me over here. Small talked and said we should go to the bar on Friday night. He had to go open up his shop after that, he said."

She sighed, nice and slow. Good, good. Nothing too over the top. Gajeel liked Gray, which was also very good and her stupid best friend accepted the little story she came up with at the heat of the moment which was good too. Juvia nodded to herself, curling a lock of her blue hair around one of her fingers.

"So… Third person."

"Shut up!" She hid her face in her hands in embarrassment, silently cursing at Gajeel for even bringing that up. Ugh, she regretted the day they played that game of 'Honestly' and her past-self for even saying something like that.

Gray grinned at her and, fuck, if it wasn't mesmerizing. But Juvia hid behind her hands both in her mortification and from how… Wonderful he was. Like, did he have any idea that he made her heartbeat escalate like in those cheesy romance books? He probably did—he could probably hear it right then.

"How'd that work?"

She pursed her lips, lowering her hands down and taking a deep breath. "It was a speech thing. I was a little girl and just liked to refer to myself as 'Juvia' rather than 'I' or 'me'." She rolled her dark eyes, staring at the drama playing on the television screen. "'Juvia is back home from school!' or my mother's favorite, 'may Juvia be excused now?'"

Gray chuckled. "Cute."

"Shut up."

He shrugged, "I liked taking my clothes off, when I was live."

Juvia almost choked on air. "E-excuse me?"

Gray shrugged again. "It became a habit from rigorous training with my mentor."

Juvia's face flushed at the thought.

.

.

.

"Gray?"

It was close to midnight and Juvia was tired but she didn't want to get up and head to bed just yet. Being in Gray's presence—shivering with the cold air that surrounded him—was actually quite soothing. She laid on her side of the couch, wrapped in the forest-green blanket, eyes closed and brain muddy.

"Yeah?"

"Do you have any demon friends?"

Perhaps they didn't go by it as 'friends'. Allies, maybe. Or partners, even.

"Ah, you can say that."

She hummed, snuggling in her spot; it wouldn't be the first time she fell asleep on the couch, talking to him. Sometimes, she woke up in her own bed, under the covers and with her shoes off. Sometimes, she would wake up where she had fallen asleep with Gray sitting next to her, reading a book or with his eyes closed but his mind still very much awake.

"Tell me about them."

He was quiet for a few moments, shifting around to what Juvia presumed was to take the hoodie off; she heard the zipper go down, anyway.

"Her name's Ultear. Looks a lot like my mentor; sometimes I think she's the daughter she lost. But that's not important. She's powerful and beautiful and kind of annoying." He paused, for a second. "Demons aren't the gory, disgusting things your picture box paints them out to be, you know. For example, Ultear has long hair, dark eyes—she looks as if she were your age, actually. Her horns are smaller than mine, though… She can get nasty with her claws, too."

Juvia smiled, imagining Gray bickering with this Ultear.

"Do demons have lovers?"

"Yes."

"Is she yours?"

"No."

She hummed.

Juvia fell asleep, then, and dreamed of Gray walking through what could have been Hell, talking to Ultear and smirking in that way she liked.


End file.
